Nuclear Dreams
by BossaNovaBaby24
Summary: Harry asks Ruth to accompany him on a trip, completely below the radar & possibly dangerous. Their destination? Baghdad. Set between series 4 & 5.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

**Well, until I find my funny bone (last seen being buried by my dog), I thought I might give a serious Spooks story a try. Naturally, I have decided on the topic of what happened in Baghdad. I've set it between series 4 & 5, the time I think it must have taken place. **

**If you've come to this story looking for a real action packed thriller, you still have a chance to press the back button. I don't believe this operation to be too overly dramatic and haven't written it as such.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy somewhat.**

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings etc. are rightful property of Kudos. I own none of it, no copyright infringement intended, it has merely happened by accident.**

**Chapter 1**

"Yes, I- right, okay. Yes," Ruth drummed her fingers absently against her desk as she cradled the phone to her ear, "but everything went-? Yes, fine. Thank you very much. I'll tell them all right away."

She dropped the phone back onto her desk and turned in her chair to face the rest of the Section D team, who were watching her with baited breath. She didn't show any reaction on her face as she talked to the person on the other end of the line. Harry would have been proud; born spook indeed. Ruth took time out to shuffle some folders into order before looking at them all, her face covered by a beaming smile.

"He's stable, Adam's stable" she said, and her voice was drowned out by a collective sigh of relief and animated chatter. They had been waiting for almost ten hours for news on their colleague and friend. There had been one moment of pure panic when the doctor informed Ruth that Adam had died on the table once during the operation. But he was a survivor it seemed. Wes wouldn't be an orphan.

Ruth slumped back in her chair, smiling as she watched happiness alter everyone. It was almost as if the Grid was suddenly flooded with light and colour. No longer the blue pulsing of the lockdown, but genuine bright colours lit up with smiles.

She felt a presence behind her and knew immediately who it was. It was strange really, how she could pick out who it was by the butterflies that seemed intent on rising in her stomach and the quickening of her own breath. Ruth cocked her head and saw Harry leaning against her desk, his hands folded in his lap as he watched the team gathering their coats. End of the day, celebratory drink at The George.

"Good news I take it?" Harry asked softly, looking at Ruth.

Ruth gave him a brilliant smile, her eyes glittering in the light.

"He's stable. Resting. Wes should be allowed to see him soon."

"Good, that's good."

Harry watched as Ruth looked back over at her colleagues. Jo had just finished buttoning up her coat when she shouted across to the analyst and boss.

"We're all going for drinks to celebrate. Either of you coming?"

Ruth looked down at the pile of paperwork on her desk and sighed. If she left now, the paperwork would never get done and she would be in no mood tomorrow with a headache to do it.

"I'll pass," Ruth replied, pointing at the work that littered her desk. Jo winced in sympathy and looked towards Harry. He glanced down at Ruth, who tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and focused intently on the files, before standing up.

"No thank you, Joanna," he said, "While I am glad that Adam is stable, this country is far from it."

Jo nodded and accepted the excuse for what it was; an excuse. She wasn't stupid, she could see the spark between them both. If they wanted time alone on the Grid, she wouldn't be the one to get in the way of it. She was happy for them, really.

"See you both tomorrow then!" She called out, before exiting the pods. Silence reigned on the Grid. Ruth looked around and realised that she was alone with Harry. It was always them left, it had become almost tradition now. Usually they discussed the threat they had just overcome with a cup of tea at Ruth's desk. Ruth wondered briefly if they would do the same tonight and wasn't sure whether she wanted to or not. Angela Wells was a personal demon for Ruth. She didn't want to disclose anymore than she had to on the matter. Then again, it was Harry. She trusted him with her life. Ruth knew that if she told him anything it would stay between them.

Harry took control of the moment this evening, leaning over Ruth's desk behind her. She could feel his chest brush her back and suppressed a shudder while trying also to keep her heart rate under control. If he noticed her breath catch then it would lead to awkwardness.

"Ruth," he murmured softly, "can I have a word in my office?"

"Of course Harry," she replied gently with a smile.

She didn't question his serious expression and instead followed him diligently into his office. As she entered, Harry stepped behind her and slid the door shut, locking it with a soft 'click'. This was new; he never locked his door. Ruth watched as he moved towards the comfortable chairs by the office windows.

"Harry?" She asked, inwardly cursing as her voice shook slightly with anticipation. Calling her into his office and locking the door was not their usual behaviour.

Harry sat down with a sigh and indicated with his hand that she join him. Ruth acquiesced and chose the seat next to him. His arm lay across the back of her chair and the slightest movement brought her left shoulder in contact with his chest.

"Ruth," he started gently, "I asked you to come in here because what I am about to ask cannot be heard by anyone else."

Ruth remained silent and looked into his eyes, willing him to continue.

"It is of utmost importance that what I say does not leave this room, are we clear?"

Ruth's butterflies disappeared, replaced by a lead weight and a healthy dose of alarm and curiosity. Whatever it was, it was eating Harry up, she could see it in his worried expression.

"Harry, what is it? What's going on?"

"I need to ask something of you, Ruth. It is an imposition and I can only apologise, but you are the only one I trust enough to disclose this information with."

"Whatever you need Harry," Ruth immediately replied. She would walk to the ends of the earth for this man.

"You may not say that when I have told you what it is about."

"There's only one way to find out," She was becoming more uneasy with the way Harry wouldn't look directly at her. His gaze was shifting between the air above her shoulder and his own lap.

"I-" he cleared his throat, "I need you to accompany me on a trip."

Ruth took a few moments to hide her shock and formulate a response.

"A trip?" she eventually asked, "and is this trip relevant to the information you are going to disclose?"

"Very relevant," Harry replied, "I need someone I trust and someone who is adaptable with languages."

"Where are we going?" Ruth asked confidently. Harry's eyebrows rose at the strength behind her agreement and stared straight into her eyes this time. Her cheeks flushed red but she did not look away.

"We're going to Baghdad."

**A/N**

**Would be lovely to hear your thoughts on this, please review if you have a moment to spare. Chapter 2 will hopefully be up shortly (maybe tomorrow, it's been written and everything).**

**Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

**11 reviews in the space of 24 hours? You lot bowl me over! Thank you to every follow, favourite, review and view!**

**A big thank you also goes to my editor/cheer-leader who is a bit of a Swede on a stick, but I love her anyway.**

**So here is chapter 2. I hope you enjoy it just as much! This story has a bit of a slow pace to start, picks up a little though in future chapters, honest!**

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings etc. are property of Kudos. I own nothing, no copyright infringement intended, but certainly implied by my actual ignoring of these laws and writing about the characters anyway.**

**Chapter 2**

It was a few days before Harry brought up the topic of Baghdad again and it caused Ruth to wonder if he had forgot he had asked her anything at all, or if perhaps the trip had been postponed. Harry hadn't told her anything other than that they were due to fly in a week, something for which Ruth was both grateful and annoyed. On one hand, if any superiors were to find out and ask her on the subject matter, Ruth could claim plausible deniability. Harry had insisted that it was below the radar and unlikely that anyone would ask, but didn't want to risk it all the same by telling her anything further than the essentials. However, this didn't stop the uneasy feeling that had settled in Ruth's stomach since he asked. Yes, she was secretly thrilled to be spending time out of office with Harry (despite the seriousness of the operation), but she didn't like to be kept in the dark. She wanted to be prepared. Legends, background information, anything. Something to analyse.

It had been a tough few days, making sure a Russian politician couldn't sell anything untoward to Iran that would help vindicate their stand-off with Israel. The men had chosen British soil to come together, something Harry was less than impressed with.

"What do they think we are?" He blustered, once both foreign parties had left the country angry and empty-handed, "international waters?"

"The Americans are watching both Iran and Russia like a hawk, tracking their comings and goings," Ruth replied sagely, handing Harry over a dozen files, "they seem to think they've tamed Britain already so they can keep us on a longer lead. It's an ingenius idea really, to trade arms in a country allied to the enemy. No-one would suspect."

"Ingenius isn't exactly a word I'd use," Harry reprimanded with a gentleness he only reserved for her.

"Of course, wrong choice of words really."

Ruth waited for Harry to say more, but he silently read the file in front of him. She walked towards the door of his office and made to draw it back, when Harry cut across the silence;

"Leave it closed, Ruth. We need to talk."

She returned diligently to his side.

"Harry?" She became wary once more as he scrutinised her.

"Have you packed?"

"Errr-" this wasn't how she thought the conversation would be going, so abrupt and to the point. She didn't get a chance to reply as Harry once more cut in;

"Make sure you're ready to leave by 9pm tomorrow night. I'll pick you up then."

So many arguments ran through her mind. She wanted to scold him for being so authoritive and assuming she would have no plans and would be more than willing to just drop everything at the drop of a hat to travel round the world without knowing why. Instead, she remained silent and took a few calming breaths.

"Harry, shouldn't I know _something _before we head off?" She finally asked.

"I will explain everything when we get there," Harry's reply was impassive, his expression more so.

"I just need to know-"

"-Ruth," He cut her off, "I need you to trust me on this."

His gaze penetrated her, peeling away every question and argument she had. _Trust me, _he had said. If she couldn't trust him, who could she trust really? She squared her shoulders.

"Okay," she said firmly, letting him know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't happy with this secrecy and short notice.

"That will be all Ruth," If Harry understood her tone then he didn't show it, instead choosing to look at the file in front of him once more.

Ruth left his office quietly and didn't look back, not catching his softened gaze as he watched her walk away.

...

The next evening came around quicker than Ruth would have liked. Her large duffel bag was half full, weighed down with notepads, a book, cosmetic essentials and a haphazard pile of mismatched clothes. No sooner had she given up and downed the remnants of her glass of red wine than the doorbell buzzed, indicating the time.

She took a deep breath and fumbled with the locks on her door, before opening it slowly. On the other side stood Harry, still dressed in the same suit from work that day but with his tie somewhat loosened and the top button of his shirt undone.

"Ruth," he greeted her formally, "are you...?"

He indicated the inside of her house, in an attempt to ask silently if she was ready for the long trip ahead.

"Yes, my-er- my bag is just-" she picked up her duffel bag from behind her and Harry automatically took it out of her hands and threw it over his shoulder.

Ruth ran inside quickly to grab her coat. When she had hurriedly thrown it on, she stepped out into the cool night air and locked her door. Harry waited for her a few feet away, a cutting silhouette of authority in the darkness.

"Your cats?" He asked as they traipsed down the front garden path quietly together. The chances of her neighbours peering out from behind their curtains were slim, but it was always prudent to be extra quiet so as not to cause any reason for them to.

"With an old school friend," Ruth replied, pulling her coat tighter round her figure as a breeze hit them both. She felt Harry's hand hovering on the small of her back, guiding her to the car, and bit back an involuntary shudder. Though if she did, she could blame it on the cold...

"Good, that's good," he replied softly, not removing his hand.

"And Scarlett?"

"Kennels," he replied succinctly, opening the passenger door of a large black land rover for her. At Ruth's involuntary wince, he paused and stiffened in defence, "what? what is wrong with kennels?"

"It's just..." Ruth started, "kennels are so impersonal."

"It'll only be for a few days."

Ruth felt assured at his words, thinking they were intended to alleviate her own questions as much as her concern for his dog. She got into the backseat of the car while Harry placed her duffel bag in the boot. He then re-appeared and settled himself in the back as well.

The driver in front remained silent, waiting for further instructions, and Harry told him to take them to the airport as quickly as he could, but by as many back-roads as possible.

"Just in case," he said apologetically, with a slight incline of his head. Ruth felt the lead weight in the pit of her stomach again, but it was lessened when she felt the pressure of Harry's hand on her own, albeit briefly, as he whispered, "paranoia of an old Spook. I don't think there is anyone following us. I just want to be sure."

"Of course," Ruth gave the ghost of a smile back and, quicker than she would have liked, Harry's hand disappeared from hers.

Ruth sighed and looked out the window as the car pulled away. It was going to be a long trip.

**A/N**

**Once again, hope you have enjoyed this latest installment. Chapter 3 up tomorrow hopefully. If you have some time to kill, reviews would be appreciated. Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**

**I'm not going to lie, my knowledge of Baghdad is somewhat limited so call it creative/artistic licence. Thanks once again for all the reviews, great to know there are some eager beavers out there. I hope no-one is getting too frustrated with the pace of the story, it starts to pick up soon.**

**Once again, a huge thank you to my lovely Swede on a stick, who corrected, prompted and otherwise poked me with very long, sharp sticks.**

**Enjoy chapter 3!**

**Disclaimer: all characters/settings etc. are property of Kudos, I own nothing blah blah and all that jazz. **

The air outside the airport was stifling and hot. It wasn't the pleasant heat of a long-awaited holiday, Ruth decided, it was a heat that weighed down heavily on your shoulders and encompassed you, leaving you struggling to draw breath.

Everywhere around her there was noise and heat and dirt. Her view could almost be considered sepia, tinted as it was by the dry land surrounding the small airport and the garish colours of dated cars as they sped by, with no concern for pedestrians. It was a far cry from the wet, grey but polite Britain she was so used to.

A car horn blared suddenly from beside her and she watched in wonder as a taxi driver swerved dangerously round a cyclist, shouting slander in his native tongue whilst narrowly avoiding ploughing his car into oncoming traffic.

_Perhaps some things are the same no matter where you go, _Ruth mused, a smile tugging at her lips.

It was at this moment she felt a familiar presence by her side, carrying all the luggage.

"I could have carried my own you know," Ruth admonished, watching as Harry juggled a couple of bags.

"We're playing at 'English Tourists', remember?" Harry replied, squinting as a small breeze whipped around them, carrying with it dirt and sand. Ruth shielded her eyes with her hand, feeling guilty as Harry didn't have a hand free to do such a thing.

"Here," she grabbed her bag suddenly off of him, "we can be English Tourists _trying _to fit in with the Middle Eastern culture."

Harry nodded his acquiescence and took a step forward to the very edge of the broken pavement. After a few minutes, a taxi pulled in to greet them. It was an old grey car, rusted slightly from the weather and sporting an elaborate pair of fluffy dice in the front.

"Bit of good luck already," Harry informed Ruth genially, before leaning in the open window to discuss distance with the driver.

Ruth rolled her eyes and waited patiently as Harry attempted to communicate very slow English with the driver. After a few moments, Harry pulled away from the window and indicated Ruth to join him, finally admitting lingual defeat.

"We need to get to Mazhuhid hotel, tell him Ruth."

The driver was abrupt and rather rude, Ruth thought, as she tried to tell him where they needed to go. When she had finally haggled the man down to a reasonable price, they both hopped in with their luggage.

"Is there a language that you _don't _speak?" Harry asked.

"Actually, my Punjabi is rather rusty," she replied with a small smile. Harry grinned at that and searched around for his seatbelt. Upon finding none in the car, he sighed and wiped his forehead. It was beaded with sweat from the humidity.

Ruth glanced at the driver in front. He had no interest in who was in the back and Ruth used this opportunity to lean in towards Harry.

"When am I going to find out what we're here for?" She asked quietly, glancing up at him. His eyes were boring into hers and the close proximity made her breath catch.

"Later, Ruth," he whispered back, not drawing away. In fact, he seemed to lean further forward and she felt his breath tickle her cheek, "I promise you, later."

Her eyes moved down from his eyes and came to a halt at his mouth, mere centimetres away. Harry was watching her silently, his gaze never left her face. It was like their moment in the corridor during the Princess Diana debacle. He seemed to be waiting. Waiting for her to act on impulse, to draw him close and-

A car horn blared and both jolted backwards, their breathing unsteady. They glanced at each other once more and the moment was over.

_That was too close, _Ruth shook her head and looked out the window. What had possessed her to even _think _she might-? She heard Harry shift beside her, letting out a deep sigh.

….

The drive was long and arduous. Despite the open windows, there was no breeze and she could feel sweat slowly trailing down the sides of her face. She wiped it away quickly, not wanting to appear messy in front of Harry but she need not have bothered. Harry seemed to be having a worse time. He had undone the top few buttons of his shirt and spent most of the trip cursing under his breath and wiping his forehead. Most of their ride so far had also been spent in silence. While Ruth usually didn't mind the lack of conversation (she liked to think of it as companionable silence), right now she needed something, _anything, _to distract her from the overbearing heat.

"What's your favourite film?" She asked, looking over at him.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the question, but pondered it for a moment.

"_The Great Escape,_" he replied. At Ruth's questioning gaze, he continued, "it's a classic, usually comes on the television every year at some point. Why do you ask?"

"Just… making conversation," Ruth replied feebly. She wondered if Harry noted how awkward this all was, as he asked, "and yours is?"

"I think you know that."

Harry looked out the window briefly, before turning back to her with a smile.

"_The Red Shoes._"

Of course he knew, he was a Spook after all. Ruth nodded warmly, remembering his birthday gift to her of a soundtrack based on the film, and turned her attention back to the world outside the taxi. It was silly really, but knowing his favourite film made her feel a lot better.

"Why do you like it?" Harry's soft voice broke her train of thoughts and she turned back to find him looking at her, curious.

"Why do I like what?"

"_The Red Shoes. _Why is it your favourite?"

Ruth felt her heart constrict. She knew why she liked it. A story of a girl who has to choose between the two things she wants the most in the world; a man or her career. The thin line between them both, the line that Ruth found herself treading. Of course the decision was even more difficult when the man was her boss.

"Ruth?"

She turned her head and felt a blush rise up her cheeks. She wondered if Harry noticed. His eyes remained impassive and anyone else would think not, but it was that small upturn of the corner of his mouth that gave him away. Just a quirk of his lips, but Ruth knew then that he knew her answer really. Not wishing to push her luck, however, she muddled her way through.

"I… I like the dancing," she explained, hoping he would buy the lie, "when I was a child, I wanted to dance like that."

"I'm sure you would excel at it, like everything else," Harry replied softly. Ruth opened her mouth to reply, to deflect the compliment, but was stopped as the taxi ground to a halt outside a respectable looking building. They had arrived.

….

"We wish you a pleasant stay, Mr and Mrs Farmer," The lady behind the desk spoke fluent English, something that Ruth was very glad for. One less struggle for them both. When she had heard Harry check in as Giles Farmer, she wanted to cringe but really it was quite ingenius. They were in a profession where they could choose any name they wanted as an alias; no-one would _choose_ Giles Farmer.

_Well, _she thought with a grin, _no-one but Harry._

"Something funny, love?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised. Ruth started at the affectionate term, she wasn't used to it, but realised what he was doing. In front of the staff, they were a married couple intent on exploring the world.

"Nothing at all, sweetie."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Ruth had to laugh as Harry had to do a double-take after her comment. She smiled nervously, unsure of her bold manner, and followed him into the lift. The walk to their room was in silence and it was only when they reached their door that Harry turned to Ruth and said amiably:

"Home sweet home."

He opened the door and allowed Ruth to enter first. The room was tidy, if a little small. A double bed took up most of the room, with a couple of chairs, a small table and a bulky wardrobe fitted in the free space. There was a small bathroom adjacent to the door. It wasn't exactly the luxury accommodation she had hoped for, but for what she assumed to be serious business in a very volatile country, what could she expect really?

Ruth turned to Harry to ask him about the sleeping arrangements but stopped as he put a finger to his mouth. He motioned around the room, pointing in particular at the corners and the furniture. Ruth understood immediately. They could be bugged. She pointed at the far side of the room, indicating she would take that half and he nodded.

Both set about exploring, their hands moving dexterously over the surfaces, walls, lamp shades and chair fabric. No stone was left unturned. The mattress was flipped, drawers emptied and pulled out, even the light fittings were expertly unscrewed from the walls by Harry and thoroughly checked. After an hour or so and no devices found, they concluded that, for now, they would be safe to talk.

"Sorry about the room."

"Excuse me?" Ruth asked, as she got down from a chair after double-checking the light.

"The room. It's not a lot," Harry apologised, watching her, "but this is completely below the radar so it's coming out of my account."

"It's fine, really Harry," she assured him, smiling as he sighed in relief.

"Next time we have a mission in a hotel, I'll get you your own room. Better yet, I'll allow you to stay on the Grid if you'd rather."

"I'll hold you to that," Ruth replied nervously. Harry chuckled softly.

"Hmm yes, please do."

Once more a silence descended upon them. They looked around their room, taking their time to look over everything that was available to them and trying to ignore the effects of each others presence. _If only there was a kettle, _Ruth thought to herself. She could have done with a hot drink.

"What about sleeping arrangements?" She suddenly asked, remembering what she was going to mention to him before the debugging. Harry's eyes darted over to the double bed but then quickly looked away. He cleared his throat and Ruth felt a lot better knowing that she wasn't the only one finding this extremely unsettling.

"I can move the chairs together," he replied quickly, "you can have the bed."

"No, I couldn't ask you to do that, Harry. I'll take the chairs."

Harry smiled and shook his head.

"I assure you, Ruth, I have slept in more uncomfortable places. Compared to Northern Ireland, a couple of chairs is the Savoy."

Ruth felt bad. Here he was, paying for their flights and hotel out of his own pocket and he couldn't even sleep in the bed. She wanted very much to argue, to wear him down until he gave in, but she knew it would be futile. He had that stubborn set in his eyes again and Ruth knew it would be like arguing with a brick wall. A very generous, gentlemanly brick wall.

"Thank you," she responded softly and he nodded his head in return, no doubt grateful for her acquiescence. Both moved to unpack and it was only when Ruth had nearly finished hanging up her clothes that she spoke again;

"Mr and Mrs Giles Farmer?"

"Yes," Harry responded, balling up his socks, "don't you like it?"

"Rather stuffy name, actually."

Harry looked up quickly to find Ruth grinning at him.

"It's worked before," he replied, his tone light but measured, "the most boring of names are the most innocuous."

"True," she conceded, "but it's hardly believable that I would have taken that name, surely."

"Hardly surprising with a maiden name like Seedhouse, eh Rachel?"

Ruth opened her mouth and closed it again. Her legend's maiden name was Seedhouse? Farmer was starting to sound like a very nice alternative.

"Thought as much," Harry responded to her silence with a smile, before turning back to fold his clothes.

After a few more moments of unpacking, Ruth felt it a good time to start asking questions.

"What are we doing here, Harry?"

Harry placed his now empty duffel bag on top of the wardrobe and turned back to Ruth. There was something in his eyes that she had seen only a few times before. When Tom had made contact after the assassination, when Juliet had suspended him and again when Angela Wells had revealed her true colours. Was it uncertainty?

"What I am about to tell you is in strictest confidence," he said quietly, "the highest echelons of government are not aware of what is going on and this needs to be dealt with quickly and with maximum discretion."

"You're starting to worry me," Ruth replied, wringing her hands, "what's going on?"

"A week ago, I received an anonymous tip-off that there would be a shipment crossing the border into Iraq."

"When?"

"In a few days time."

"What is in the shipment?"

Harry remained silent, merely staring at her. She could see he was debating whether to disclose the entirety of what he had been told.

"Harry…" Ruth asked slowly, moving forward, "what is in the shipment?"

In a split second, he seemed to make up his mind.

"Uranium."

Ruth stopped, her mouth opening but no words coming out.

"Weapons-grade Uranium, Ruth," Their eyes locked, neither looked away, "enough to make several dirty bombs."

**A/N**

**Bet you didn't see that coming... **

**Hope you have enjoyed, next chapter hopefully up tomorrow. If you have a spare few minutes to review, it would be appreciated, thanks.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**

**Hello! Next chapter tonight, as promised. Hope you all enjoy, really happy to see so many reviews and views! Thank you all!**

**Once again, I had some great support and comments from my Swede on a stick so a big thanks to you, Swede!**

**I know hardly anything about Baghdad, so apologies if everything is wrong but... y'know... it's about the creativity and stuff, right?**

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings etc. are property of Kudos, not me. There. I said it. No copyright infringement intended. **

"Harry?"

She heard him stir over in the corner of the room.

"Yes?" His voice was thick from sleep.

The clock beside Ruth flashed the time: 3:15am. As she saw Harry's silhouette shift around and sit up, she felt bad. It wasn't fair to wake him up just because she was having trouble sleeping.

"I-I'm sorry," she backtracked quickly, "It can wait."

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. She could make out his arms as they rose above his head, stretching.

"It's nothing, I'm just being stupid. Sorry."

"Ruth."

Her name rolled off his tongue with such authority that Ruth felt compelled to speak. _This is a serious operation, _she reminded herself, _he is my boss._

"I can't sleep."

"I gathered that, funnily enough," his tone was amused and she wanted to hit her pillow in frustration. Why did she state the obvious like a child?

"Care to tell me what's troubling you?"

"It's just… I can't quite wrap my head around it."

Harry remained silent and Ruth took it as her cue to carry on.

"The idea that elements of CIA and Six are aware of an operation to vindicate this war is one thing… but to _advocate _it?"

"Do I detect hints of idealism, Ruth?"

"I'm not naïve," Ruth retorted defensively, not looking at him, "I know that we have had to back reprehensible regimes sometimes. There are things that we have to do, to _protect _national interests… but this? This is-"

"-barbaric?" Harry finished, "to ensure that more soldiers die away from home, more innocent families in Iraq are shot down in the middle of the night for nothing more than the clothes they wear? Yes, Ruth, it's difficult to think that some people _want _to keep a war going."

Ruth twisted the covers in her hands, desperately wanting to ask Harry the niggling fear at the forefront of her mind.

"There's something else," Harry spoke up. She watched him shift again, this time his silhouette leaned forwards, "what is it?"

"… we _will _win, won't we Harry?"

Harry leaned back and, while Ruth couldn't see his expression, she was sure he was contemplating the implications of her question.

"As reluctant as I am to say it, I don't think there _is_ a winning situation. If we lose the uranium, the war will rage on. If we recover the uranium and stamp out this nest of vipers… well, while it might shorten the war considerably and save future lives, the conflict will _still _remain."

"Damned if we do, damned if we don't," Ruth sighed, drawing the covers tighter around her.

"Hmm yes, I believe so," Harry replied softly, "… try and get some sleep, Ruth. Tomorrow we make contact. It wouldn't do either of us any good to be running on adrenaline alone."

"Of course. Goodnight Harry."

"Goodnight Ruth."

Ruth turned on her side and watched as the clock blinked at her: 3:23am. She heard Harry shuffle back into his sleeping position and knew, despite the long day ahead of her tomorrow, she would not be sleeping tonight.

….

The point of meet was inside the hotel, something for which Ruth was grateful. As much as she wanted to explore the local amenities of downtown Baghdad, sometimes it was just easier to be in one place, especially when on such a delicate operation.

They both walked down to breakfast, neither feeling at all refreshed but both acting as if they hadn't a care in the world. As they walked into the simple restaurant area, Ruth had a glance around at the people present. Sitting down in one of the corners was an elderly couple, most likely local from what Ruth could see of their appearance. A few tables away from the entrance, near the table of food, was a man on his own. His styled hair, expensive suit and smug grin as he read a newspaper made him completely out of place in the hotel, like them.

"Sit down over there," Harry murmured in Ruth's ear, indicating a table nearby, "I'll get us drinks."

Ruth nodded and acquiesced, noting that the questionable man's eyes flickered over her as she made her way to their seats. She watched out the corner of her eye as Harry moved over to the food table and grabbed two cups, taking his time to look at the various drinks on offer. The man at the table briefly looked up at him, before folding his newspaper neatly, leaving it on the table, and exiting the room.

With a grace that defied his age, Harry placed the abandoned newspaper under his arm and carried two cups of coffee over to their table. If the elderly couple were paying attention (which Ruth doubted) they would not have seen a thing.

Ruth accepted her coffee with a murmured 'thanks' and was surprised to find it exactly how she liked it. She wanted to ask him how he knew, but she kept silent as she watched him flick through the pages with a furrowed brow.

When he reached near the middle, Harry straightened the paper out and his eyes quickly scanned over the page.

"Hmm," he commented lightly, "looks like Britain is finally getting some sun."

"That's always the way," Ruth replied with a forced smile, burning to know what Harry had actually read.

"Perfect weather here for a stroll to the market. What do you say?"

She felt the feather light touch of his hand on her own on the table. She knew it was for show, but it didn't stop the electrifying tingles that went straight through her.

_Keep your head in the game._

Ruth nodded, not trusting herself to speak and Harry slowly withdrew his hand with a soft smile. The look in his eyes threw her. She could have sworn that it was a _knowing _look, like he was aware of the effect he was having on her. But he wouldn't be that bold, would he-? Her reverie was interrupted by his voice:

"Let's go get changed and head out."

….

"The local bar," Harry informed her as he shut the door to their room, "1 hours time."

"So we've made contact?" Ruth asked, running her hands through her hair. The heat always made it so tangled. She turned around and caught Harry looking away quickly.

"Yes," he replied, picking up his jacket off of the back of a chair, "this meeting should be short. There will no doubt be only a select person from the circle there, I don't think they'll show their hand this soon, especially with both of us as relative unknowns. No doubt they will gauge us on this meet before setting up full contact either tonight or tomorrow."

"You've done something like this before," Ruth gave a small smile.

Harry turned towards her, midway through putting his jacket on and smiled in return, abashed.

"A few times. It's basic protocol in these situations."

"Well then, Mr Farmer," Ruth said. She gestured at the door, "lead on."

….

The bar was a few roads away and, as Ruth caught sight of it, she wished their hotel was hundreds of miles in the opposite direction. The walls were old and plastered with graffiti, the windows blacked out and the door seemed not to be able to shut properly.

"All the beauty of a country in conflict," Harry said simply from his place by her side. They watched as the door slowly swung open on broken hinges, "no time like the present."

As they walked inside, Ruth tried desperately to lower her expectations. The outside seemed to be fair warning for what was within. While clean and stocked up (something she was grateful for), the bar looked like it hadn't been used in months.

"Remember, it's only half 10 in the morning," Harry said quietly as they made their way over to the bar stool, "and bars are pretty much tourist territory around here."

"Of course," Ruth nodded, perching herself precariously on a stool.

For what seemed like an eternity, no-one greeted them and they were left to sit in silence. There was no small talk. Ruth felt her stomach knot as they waited, anxious to be in and out of the country within a few days. She wondered if anyone on the Grid were wondering where they were? What did Harry tell them? Were they at all suspicious that both he and Ruth would take a few days off at the same time? That train of thought caused Ruth's stomach to knot even more.

So wrapped up was she in her own paranoia, that she didn't hear the soft footfall slowly coming closer.

"Mr and Mrs Farmer I presume?"

Ruth jumped in her seat and turned back towards the bar. The man from earlier, inside the hotel, walked forwards to greet them.

"Harry Pearce," Harry shook his hand, "Section D. This is Ruth Evershed… a trusted colleague."

Ruth glanced at Harry, feeling uneasy that he would openly reveal their identities to a man who wanted to give the go-ahead for dirty bombs no less.

"Five? Impressive," the man's voice was level and honeyed. Ruth felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end: there was something about this man that was too smooth, smarmy even.

"… and you are?" Harry remained impassive, staring at the man.

"Ronnie will do for now."

"An alias," Harry surmised as a smile tugged at his lips, "very reserved and secretive. You must be one of C's lackies."

Ronnie laughed and put his hands up in surrender.

"You're good at your job."

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," Harry retorted, the smile still firmly in place. Ruth could see it was a gargantuan effort: Harry did always like to string Six up by their shoelaces.

"I don't want to keep you from… _enjoying _your trip abroad," Ronnie's eyes flittered all over Ruth and she bit back her disgust, "so let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Certainly," Harry relaxed more on his stool, "I can only assume we're being recorded?"

Ronnie's smile was enigmatic.

"Libby did always like to size people up before meeting them," Harry reasoned amiably. He was so casual in his talking that Ruth felt compelled to just sit in silence and let him talk. She knew she would be a nervous wreck.

"I'm sure he'll be pleased to know you have only the highest praise for him," Ronnie replied, "now you are aware of the intended operation and have shown… _great _interest Mr Pearce. Forgive me if I sound rather suspicious of your motives, but to travel all this way under the radar on the mere hint of a plan… well one might start to wonder whether your heart is truly in it."

"And how would you like to me prove my commitment? Through torture? A blood pact?" Harry asked lightly, not at all phased by Ronnie's questioning, "perhaps something a bit more upmarket. We could always pinkie swear."

Ruth snorted and Ronnie looked over at her sharply. The laughter died on her lips immediately.

"Mr Pearce," Ronnie looked at him, annoyed, "as extreme as this operation may seem, we do not advocate torture. While we _want _to believe that you are here for the right reasons, there are still doubts within the circle… and bringing a fellow MI5 agent does not help matters."

Ruth remained still and silent. She stared at Ronnie, who didn't shy away and stared right back, unflinching.

"I brought Ruth here because she is my most trusted colleague," Harry explained, his tone now harsh. She wondered if Ronnie had hit a nerve in his questioning of her, but then scolded herself for being so stupid, "if anything untoward was to happen to me during this trip, I have absolute faith in her to keep this operation going from our end."

"Interesting," Ronnie's gaze roamed over her again and Ruth folded her arms quickly, "well, we'll just have to see whether the others believe this, won't we?"

"By all means," Harry waved his hand dismissively, "bring on your lions. We are all here for the same reason and you don't see me questioning your motives, or anyone else for that matter. I do not live in a cave and I am aware now more than ever of the threat to our shores from Islamic extremists. I don't want another 7/7 in my country, not while I still draw breath. If there is a way to keep us out of harm's way, I will do it. When it comes to protecting my country, I find certain morals can be discarded and in order to survive, we must ensure that the war on Terror is seen through to the very end."

Harry sat back on his stool and stared at Ronnie, who listened to his small speech avidly.

"I'm starting to think you can fit in around here, Harry," he replied, grinning.

**A/N**

**4 Chapters down. Hope you're liking it! If you have a moment, a review makes my day a lot more interesting. Thanks! Chapter 5 up tomorrow night hopefully.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**

**Hello all! Once again, cannot thank you enough for the reviews! I'm glad to hear you're not bored to death of it by now!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters, settings, hell even the plot belongs to Kudos. I'm just filling in some gaps. No copyright infringement intended.**

Their second sweep of the room upon returning showed up no surveillance yet again.

"Do you think they believed us?" Ruth asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Harry sighed and started to pace. She smiled inwardly. He really didn't realise he did it.

"I think they had no reason _not _to," he replied steadily, "and they seem eager for validation. CIA, SIS and the IIB all colluding on this; I'm sure they are practically salivating for more governmental institutions to give them the go-ahead."

"That way they can delude themselves into thinking that what they're doing is right," Ruth piped up, watching him walk back and forth.

"Yes," Harry slowed to a stop, "Ronnie seemed remarkably calm."

"He's Six, aren't they all like that?" Ruth shuddered at the thought of a building full of Ronnies. Harry let out a small huff of laughter, but carried on his train of thought:

"He seemed to accept us into the fold quickly, _too _quickly for my liking…"

"What are you thinking?"

He looked over at Ruth and she saw his expression soften.

"Nothing," he shook his head, "just being a paranoid old Spook I guess."

"You're not old."

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could catch them and Ruth watched as Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She could feel her cheeks flush and she quickly darted her eyes away.

"I-I mean, you're not old in the, er, the sense that-"

"- Ruth," Harry cut in, amused, "before you do absolute wonders for my ego with your rambling-"

The shrill ring of Harry's phone cut them both off and Ruth felt relief flood through her. The feeling was quickly stifled, however, when she realised that really only one person could be calling Harry. He picked up the phone within seconds of it going off.

"Harry Pearce," he answered curtly. His expression could have been chiselled in stone, "yes… yes… we can be there… yes. Goodbye."

Ruth watched as he hung up, his shoulders tense. He turned around.

"I hope you packed evening wear," he informed her, placing the phone down on the table, "we've been invited to dinner."

"When?"

"Tonight."

…..

"Not somewhere I'd usually choose," Ruth commented as they pulled up outside the location.

"Now, now, Ruth," Harry replied softly, "never judge a book by its cover."

"That would be a much easier philosophy to follow if the sign in the window didn't depict a naked lady on a pole."

Harry chuckled at Ruth's obvious distaste. He must admit, of all the places to have dinner he wasn't expecting _this. _The doors were wide open, smoke slowly dissipating as it reached the warm evening air. Music could be heard, a slow and steady rhythm that let them both know this 'restaurant' contained more than food and a slow dance. As they both exited their taxi, Ruth looked at the building before them and then looked down at herself. It was her only evening dress, such a shame that it would be tainted by the smoke and male chauvinism she was expecting.

"I think I'm overdressed," she sighed.

"I think you look lovely," Harry replied quickly, "this dinner is here for a reason, Ruth. They're testing us, seeing if we have what they want."

"What do they want from us?"

"We're trying to get into the inner circle of an Alpha Male pack. They want us to be as comfortable as they are in their little world of dogmatic beliefs."

Ruth looked once more at the gentlemen's club with disgust. Why did some men have to be so crude sometimes?

"When you dance with the devil, Ruth," She felt Harry whisper, his lips brushing her ear, "you do so to his tune. Shall we?"

He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her inside.

….

A rather questionable man, who Ruth was sure was leering at her when her back was turned, led them to a small room at the back of the building. The music was fainter here, but the smoke still lingered, clinging to the walls and ceiling like a poisonous cloud. Ruth looked at the occupants of the room warily.

A round table dominated the room, but had few men sitting round it. Sitting opposite the door was Ronnie, his dark hair slicked back and a sleazy grin on his face. He stood up as Harry and Ruth walked in, depositing his napkin beside him.

"Ah, didn't know if you'd show. Welcome Harry… and Ruth."

"Thank you," Harry nodded, his hand now pressed firmly into Ruth's back. If Ruth didn't find it so comforting, she'd have laughed at the show of male territory, "I don't think we've been introduced…?"

At Harry's lingering question, Ruth focussed on the other two men that sat at the large table. One man was middle eastern in appearance and she guessed he was the officer from IIB. His hazelnut eyes were lazy as he glanced over her and he had a rather large profile. His hair was black, longer than Ronnie's, and swept back. Ruth shivered as his eyes caught hers. There was something almost _masochistic _about him. Cold and calculated.

"This is Amish Mani," Ronnie indicated before sitting back down in his seat, "from the Indian Intelligence Bureau. Amish, this is Harry Pearce and Ruth Evershed from Five."

"A pleasure," his soft, accented voice told them that it wasn't a pleasure at all.

Ruth nodded quickly in reply and Harry gave a small smile, before they both turned their attention to the last man.

Beady dark eyes greeted them under a low brow and Ruth thought that he looked like the missing step in evolution. His large build and greying buzz cut gave her the impression that he was ex-military.

"Harry, Ruth," the man greeted them with a strong Texan drawl. He smiled and Ruth was reminded of a snake sizing up it's prey, "Libby McCall."

"Quite a mix of people you have here, Ronnie," Harry commented as they both took a seat round the table. Ruth made sure to discreetly slide her chair closer to Harry, but this action didn't escape the notice of Mani who watched them both, amused.

"Actually Libby is behind this arrangement," Ronnie replied. Harry offered Ruth a glass of wine, which she silently accepted before looking over at Libby.

"Yes, well," Libby smiled, "I guess some governments are just braver than others."

"Braver how?" Ruth retorted. She felt Harry tense next to her and immediately regretted the words coming out of her mouth. She couldn't help it though. That these men believed themselves to be heroes repulsed her.

Mani sat forward in his chair, a sickly smile on his face. Both he and Ronnie remained silent, but Libby guffawed loudly.

"Well aren't you a firecracker?" He smiled at her, a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "you see, darlin', there are people high up at the White House who want me here for this. Ronnie over here from your little country and Mani from India, hell, you two being here… it shows that we are brave enough to take a step that all those other countries don't. They would rather sit back and let the Middle East fight it out with the West and in the end we will look stupid…"

He took a sip of his wine and Ruth felt Harry's presence as he leaned closer to her.

"… I'm not stupid, darlin'," Libby finished, "I know as well as you do that there are no weapons of mass destruction. It doesn't take a genius to have figured it out. So when the fighting dies down and we're left empty-handed, then what? America will look like idiots."

"An image I'm sure the US is unfamiliar with," Harry commented dryly. Mani gave a small smile.

"If, however," Libby concluded, ignoring Harry's barbed comment, "some substances such as… _Uranium, _perhaps, were found, then we'd all come out of this as the good guys. The war will be longer, yes, but it's a small price to pay to protect the integrity of the West."

"The White House really have green-lit this?" Harry asked. He looked highly sceptical, which Libby picked up on.

"Rest assured, Harry, if for one second I thought my job was at risk, I wouldn't be botherin'."

"Right, so the plan was handed down from high up in _your _government. Ronnie I can only assume is here for the same reason as we are," he looked at Ruth quickly and turned back to them all, "to make sure our 'little country' doesn't look completely incompetent in our invasion of Iraq."

Ronnie nodded and Harry's eyes then flittered over to Mani, "but why on earth would this operation pique the interest of the IIB?"

If Mani was surprised by the question, he didn't show it. He smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"It is true," he started softly, "that India has a better relationship with Iraq than most."

"Hasn't your government re-formed ties with the new Iraqi government?" Ruth asked politely. She didn't want to interrupt the talk, but felt the need to re-establish herself into the conversation before they thought her the submissive little girl or worse… against them.

"Officially, we are trading with Iraq again," Mani replied, "and new contracts are being set up for construction."

"But?" Ruth left the word hanging.

"_But__…_I don't agree with this new understanding between the governments."

"You're not here on behalf of the IIB?"

"Mani here," Libby interrupted, looking between him and Ruth, "is working freelance. We've managed to strike quite a sweet deal actually."

"A 'sweet deal'?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised, "please don't tell me this deal has anything to do with oil."

"Harry," Libby smiled, "I knew you weren't naïve."

The table went quiet and once again, it was Ruth who spoke up;

"Why are you freelancing though? Oil is a precious commodity, surely any chance of getting it for cheaper would be advantageous, more so than paying higher to keep tied in with a country that at the moment is an international pariah?"

Mani shook his head silently and it was Ronnie who responded;

"Perhaps this discussion can wait until _after _we have eaten?"

Ruth heard Harry sigh as the leering man from before came in hurriedly and handed round menus.

**A/N**

**If I've got anything wrong, please do say! Reviews are very much appreciated! Hope you've enjoyed this chapter, next chapter will hopefully be up tomorrow.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**

**Longest chapter yet! Woohoo! Thanks for all the reviews once more. They were very much appreciated! So here we are, another chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and I certainly don't own Baghdad. They belong to Kudos and the US respectively (see that? I made a political joke there). No copyright infringement intended.**

"I think now would be the best time to make tracks," Harry said, watching as Ruth finished the last of her wine. She nodded in reply and both moved to stand up. Ronnie, too, stood up, but Libby was the one who spoke from his reclined position in his chair.

"It's not late," he watched Harry drop his napkin on the table, "perhaps you can be persuaded to stay… even just for an hour longer?"

"I think we've said all that needs to be said here for tonight," Harry replied amiably, though Ruth could tell that he was struggling to remain patient.

"But Harry," Libby smiled, "you haven't tasted the entertainment we have to offer here. You can't leave just yet."

"Libby, I-"

"Please," the statement was flat and forceful and Ruth watched the cogs turning in Harry's head. She knew what the _entertainment _was going to be and she knew further that Harry was trying desperately to spare her the discomfort. However, If he refused them, then he had practically tore down the bridge he was attempting to build with them… and Libby knew it. It was in that split second, therefore, that Ruth made the decision for him.

"Harry, don't turn down the invitation on my account."

Harry turned to her, his mouth open and still trying to formulate a response. She saw confusion flicker in his eyes and turned her attention to Libby.

"He just didn't want me to feel left out, you see," she forced a smile, "but I can make my own way back, there is a lot from tonight to think about after all. I'm here to assist, I can do that at the hotel this evening."

"Gracious of you," Libby said, glancing her over, "shame you won't join us though…"

His eyes slipped down her body and Ruth tried not to recoil under his gaze.

"Ruth…?" Harry's questioning voice brought her back round to him.

"It's fine, really," She assured him with a soft smile, "I can get a taxi back- straight back," she added as he opened his mouth to protest.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ruth could see Mani watching them both. He looked bored, but Ruth knew that his eyes were quickly darting between them, ever aware.

"If you're sure," Harry replied finally. He didn't look happy with her plan, but could hardly object in front of the other men.

"I am," she turned to the other men at the table, "I hope we will see each other again soon?"

"Sooner than you think," Mani replied softly, turning his attention to his glass of wine.

"Yes," Ronnie cut in, with a smile that made Ruth once again feel like prey, "there will be plenty of time in the days to come."

She nodded at them all and turned back to Harry.

"At least let me get you a taxi."

"No, I can-"

"- no arguments, come on."

Ruth gave a small smile and let him lead her out of the building. It was darker outside than before, but the breeze that hit her was still unbelievably hot.

"Your dress is blowing up," Harry commented wryly. Ruth looked down and quickly pushed the material back down, abashed.

"Oh god, sorry!" She kept her hands flat as the breeze slowly dissipated, "what must I look like!"

"Marilyn Monroe," he replied softly. Ruth looked up at him, wondering if she heard him right. As she caught his eyes, she saw something in there, something _indefinable. _A sparkle, small but vivid, staring right through her. His smile was irresolute and she could tell that, like her, this moment was above and beyond him. A raw power that was bigger than them, guiding them towards each other like-

The screech of a car hitting the curb brought them out of it, startling them, and Ruth watched with bitter disappointment as that indefinable spark in Harry's eyes slowly faded, extinguishing like a distant star.

"Your taxi awaits," Harry said, quickly pulling open the door of the pulled over car. Ruth muttered a shaky 'thank-you' and slid in the back. She watched as Harry moved round to the driver and handed over a couple of notes.

"If she doesn't get back in ten minutes, you'll be looking for another job this evening," he growled.

Ruth sighed and sat back as the taxi drove her away. She kept her eyes forward, knowing full well that Harry would watch her intently until they disappeared round the corner.

...

Harry walked back into the building with reluctance. He would give anything to have been in that taxi on his way back to the hotel with Ruth, but he understood why she insisted he stay. Libby, Ronnie and Mani wanted to make sure he was part of the fold. It was all in or all out and Harry had come this far, he wasn't about to let it all fall through his fingers, not now. Ruth was smart enough to realise this.

_Always one step ahead, my Ruth, _he mused as he made his way back into the dining area. And she _was _his_. _It had only been in the last few weeks really, what with his suspension and their debacle with Angela Wells, that Harry had felt a frisson between them. The slightest touch of their hands on the bus one night, their charged conversation in the corridor about self-control. It would be so easy, in a country so far away from their careers, their lives, to throw caution to the wind and lose control. He wanted nothing more than to lean closer, slowly brush his lips with hers, just to taste-

He shook his head. No. They may be away from all immediate repercussions should he give in to temptation, but they hadn't left their jobs. They were here to stop a heinous operation from taking place and Harry knew that no matter what, he couldn't risk letting something else, especially something so selfish, take precedence.

Harry entered the dining area to find the other three men standing up, ready to leave.

"Ahh Harry, thought you were goin' to run out on us," Libby laughed, his eyes cold as ice as he looked over at him. He had obviously had quite a bit of alcohol, Harry surmised, "now for the entertainment to begin."

Their idea of entertainment was as Harry expected. The floor below them was entirely devoted to smoke, loud music and a myriad of scantily clad girls, all of which made Harry want to leave.

"When the cats away, eh?" Ronnie smiled, showing them to seats up front.

There was hardly other spectators in the room with them; a couple of lecherous men a few seats away and a group of men at the bar nursing drinks but no-one else.

"I don't expect there are many strip clubs in Baghdad," Harry mused dryly, trying to look around the place without having the girls in his view.

"Not a lot, you're right," Libby replied. He was setting down glasses of whiskey, "luckily this club just opened up."

"Convenient."

"Not really," Mani interrupted, not quite understanding the humour of Harry's comments, "I think this property is actually the interest of… International delegations."

"As in we own it," Libby took a swig of his drink, "My superiors thought it might be handy to have somewhere in the enemy zone just in case of emergencies."

Harry remained silent and picked up his glass. While Ronnie and Libby called out to various girls throughout the evening, plying them with drinks and slipping money in their underwear, Harry spent his time watching the men discreetly. He couldn't believe that these people were representatives of different governmental factions. Rogue or not, they were not the most appropriate people to be running such an important black op. Except for Mani. Like Harry, Mani showed no interest in the women and instead kept his eyes on his companions. A few times Harry glanced over and found those deep brown eyes staring at him, soullessly. He made a few efforts to show an interest in the dancers whenever he knew Mani was watching him, but Harry knew in the end that he was fooling no-one.

As the evening wore on, Libby and Ronnie got progressively more drunk. While Libby was red in the face, booming loudly and becoming more brazen, Ronnie seemed to shrink back into himself and, while outwardly enjoying the girls, kept quiet. It was nearing 3am and Harry decided, as he downed the last bit of his drink at the bar, that now would be a suitable time to leave them.

He walked back over to the seats they had occupied all evening and found Libby and Ronnie had gone. Harry looked over at Mani who sat, still as preen as he had started, looking mildly amused.

"They are in the backrooms," he explained, "apparently the girls are not restricted to a 'no touch' rule."

Harry tried not to show just how disgusted he was by the lewd behaviour and instead gave a small smile.

"Well then, now would be a perfect time for me to call it quits."

"You're not staying for the next course?" There was a hint of a challenge in his eyes, but Harry knew that no matter how much he wanted these men to trust him, there were lines even he could not cross.

"Best not," he replied, "need to be up early tomorrow and I should like to think this operation takes full precedence."

"Of course," Mani agreed, "I'll walk you out. Frankly I'm surprised either of them can- how do you say it- '_get it up' _after the alcohol they consumed."

Harry laughed at that. Both men stood up and left the club, with Harry trying desperately to block out the sounds coming from the backrooms.

...

By the time Harry got back it was half 3 in the morning.

He tried his best to quietly open and close the door to his and Ruth's room, but just as he heard the soft '_click_' of the lock, a quiet voice permeated the air;

"Had a good time?"

He turned around and found Ruth sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. Harry smiled softly at the sight.

"I've had better evenings," he replied as he kicked off his shoes.

"Better than a seedy strip-club with some chauvinistic pigs in the Middle East? Harry, I'm shocked," the impish smile on Ruth's face made Harry chuckle as much as the comment.

He glanced around the room briefly and Ruth noted his concern, saying;

"No bugs. I checked when I got back in. It would've been a perfect opportunity for them really, wouldn't it?"

"Thanks," Harry sighed and removed his tie, letting it slip through his fingers onto one of the chairs.

"You stink."

"Ruth," Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise at her blunt statement, "you really need to work on how you talk to your superiors, you know."

"Sorry," Ruth backtracked, but Harry could tell she wasn't sorry at all, "it's just you smell of smoke and whiskey and… well, it's overpowering really."

Harry watched a hint of colour spread to her cheeks as she said it and couldn't help but smile at her reassuringly.

"Yes, I think I most definitely need a shower."

"So… what happened?"

Harry took a moment to ponder the implications of her question. Was she enquiring for more information about the operation or the men involved in it? Or was this fishing more personal? Perhaps she wanted to know whether Harry partook in the rather amorous activities that evening. In the end, he decided the play it safe.

"Nothing more was discussed about the operation."

"So you just talked about… nothing?"

Now that was definitely fishing, Harry decided and turned to Ruth as he pulled his shirt out of his trousers.

"Well, there wasn't much talking really. The music wouldn't have allowed for it."

He watched as she started to wring the duvet in her hands.

"Libby and Ronnie both enjoyed the entertainment very much," Harry said, hoping to soothe what he perceived to be fears, "I personally found more interest in the bottom of my glass of whiskey."

Ruth let out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding. Harry smiled inwardly, sure that he was correct in his assumptions that what he felt for Ruth seemed to be reciprocated. Ruth opened her mouth to reply but stopped as her eyes lit up suddenly, sparking with an intelligence Harry had seldom seen in his other analysts.

"Was Mani not interested in the entertainment?"

"He showed more interest in me actually," Harry replied thoughtfully. At Ruth's small grin he realised how it had come out and shook his head.

"He was more interested in keeping surveillance on my reactions was what I meant."

"I'm sure."

Ruth's grin didn't disappear.

"Ruth…"

"Sorry, Harry," one again, she didn't sound particularly sorry, nor did she stop smiling.

"Would you like to tell me your suspicions before I have a shower?"

That did the trick. Ruth cleared her throat and nodded, looking once more the consummate professional.

"Of course," she grabbed a notepad off the desk beside her and Harry watched as she flicked through all the pages filled with her delicate handwriting and scribbles, "I don't trust him."

"You trust _any _of them?"

"Well, no… but I distrust him most of all. With the other two, they are who they are at face value. Libby is a … _horrible_ man, Harry, but he's an honest one. Ronnie, despite the obvious alias, seems to be just as straightforward. Mani, however, I…" she looked down at a page in her book and sighed, "I think he is more important to this operation than we realise. There is something about him… god, he makes my skin crawl."

"Have you found any proof of your suspicions?" Harry asked her, sitting down on the edge of her bed, quite close.

"Well, n-no, not exactly," Ruth admitted. She shut her notebook and put it on her lap, "just instinct is telling me that there is more to him than meets the eye."

"Good," Harry stated, "trust your instincts Ruth, they haven't led us wrong before."

Ruth, though startled at his sudden compliment, smiled at him brightly. Harry took that very moment to lean in closer and felt satisfaction as he heard her breath catch in her throat.

"Now," he said softly, "I really need a shower. Go to sleep."

**A/N**

**Got time for a review? They'd be much appreciated. Even if you don't, thanks for reading and keeping with it so far. Next chapter hopefully up tomorrow night.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**

**Sorry about the delay! Hope you enjoy this one, thanks to everyone for the very lovely reviews! I'm glad some of you think I'm getting the characterisations right, it's what I aim for! Many thanks, hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: All characters etc. belong to Kudos. I own nothing. Nothing at all. No copyright infringement intended.**

It was late the next morning when Libby appeared out of his room. His hangover was as bad as to be expected and, when he reached the main dining area, he fully expected that the other two men would take advantage of it. He was not wrong.

"Libby!" Ronnie called out, smugly, "how nice of you to join us at last."

Libby scowled, but could not retort. Instead, he sat down and held his forehead in his hands while one of the women from last night placed a steaming mug of coffee down in front of him.

"Cheers darlin'," Libby grunted and the woman nodded, then left. He glanced at Ronnie and Mani, both of whom sat opposite him, smirking in that smug, superior way they did when he took things further than them.

"I wish you two would really wipe those shit-eatin' grins from your faces," he growled.

"My, my, temper," Ronnie responded, delighted, "it's not our fault you _over-_exerted yourself."

"Piss-poor excuse for friends you are, lettin' me drink like that."

"Please, Libby," Mani said, resting his chin on his steepled hands as he leant on the table, "don't mistake what this is. We are not friends, we are allies. Nothing more."

Libby looked between the two; both seemed ready for business.

"Fine, fine," Libby grumbled, "of course not. After this we'll have nothing more to do with each other after all. So why have I been dragged down here?"

"Harry Pearce," Ronnie sighed, "What do you think?"

"Well we've already told him everything, not that he didn't know it already-"

"- we haven't told them _everything,_" Mani interrupted coldly, "we could still turn them away now and they'll have no chance of stopping it."

"You're right of course," Libby replied, "but if he can't stop it, he'll make good on bringing this operation to light. I can't be responsible for bringing my country into more war than is necessary. I'd be hung out to dry…"

He took a sip of his coffee, but it didn't seem to be helping the pounding headache. _Just like them to make me look a fool, _he thought darkly, _all business and I can__'__t even think straight._

"So we let him in?"

"The man has morals," Mani mused, "he showed that last night… but I think this operation overrides these morals or he wouldn't be here."

"Right, that's decided. We'll tell him later today," Libby made to stand up, "if that'll be all gentlemen-"

"- what about the woman?"

Ronnie looked over at Mani, questioning, while Libby collapsed back down with a groan. He was never going to get to sleep this off.

"Ruth Evershed? What about her?" Ronnie was nonplussed at Mani's question.

"I've been watching her… the way she looks at us. Harry we can trust, yes, but I don't know about her."

"I say we trust her," Libby remarked, "If we have Harry on side, she's not likely to go behind his back. After all, that would put _him _up shit creek without a paddle _and _implicate her."

"I would like to remind you both _I__'__m _the one that, if this all goes wrong, will be caught red-handed. While your governments may handle the fall out well enough to pension you both off… the Bureau will have no qualms in making sure I don't return to India."

"It's a risk…" Ronnie agreed, "but one we're going to have to take. She is his back-up. We either trust both, or neither."

"I think I should talk to her," Mani said, "just to make sure our trust is well placed."

"What are you goin' to do?" Libby laughed, "threaten to kill her?"

Mani stood up and swept down his suit, a cold smile fixed on his face.

"Sometimes it is not when our own lives are in danger that we make the right call… it is when someone else's is."

….

"So what are your plans for today?" Ruth asked as she walked out of the bathroom, brushing her hair.

Harry pulled his tie up tight and turned around to greet her with a smile.

"I thought I'd go back to the club and see if I can find out what route the shipment is coming in on," he explained as he picked up his watch to fasten round his wrist.

"We have two days left, might be useful to get some eyes in place at the most likely routes I guess," Ruth agreed.

"Hmm yes, I'd also like to know who the courier will be. I doubt the Americans would be so brazen as to do it themselves."

"Do you think they trust you?"

Harry threw on his suit jacket, adamant that no matter how unbearably hot it was he wouldn't be seen without proper attire.

"I think so, at least enough to be given information so we can stop it."

"Your collar."

"Huh?"

Ruth was walking towards him with a gentle smile. She drew up close and Harry felt his heart stop when her hands slowly slid up his lapels and looped round his neck.

"Ruth, what are you-?"

"- Your collar," she explained and Harry's heart started again when he felt her hands tug at his jacket behind his neck, "it was twisted. That's got it."

Her hands gently dropped down and she took a reluctant step back. Harry watched her, confused by the combating feelings; was he relieved that she didn't push it further? Disappointed?

"What should I do today?"

Harry sighed as the moment was once again lost amidst the reason they were here. Though he could still see the vibrant sparkle in her eyes from that close connection, it was surrounded by a professionalism that Harry couldn't help but admire.

"If you could make a start on possible journey routes," he asked, buttoning his jacket, "if we find out what countries the shipment is going through, we might be able to get a handle on who is providing the uranium in the first place. That way we might be able to identify our courier easier."

"I'll get started right away."

"I'm sure."

There was a brief lull in conversation as both just stared at each other. It wasn't uncomfortable, Harry decided, more _familiar _than anything. After nearly a minute, he cleared his throat.

"I should-"

"-Yes," Ruth replied hurriedly, "of course."

He strode past her and left the room with as much will as he could gather.

….

_Ruth, Ruth, Ruth, _Harry thought wistfully as he made his way through the hotel foyer.

His thoughts were so broken yet so fixated, he didn't pay attention to anyone else on his way out.

He didn't notice that the lady behind reception had cut her hair a little bit shorter (a decision she figured might make her look more professional). He didn't notice the cleaner who had come in later than usual because her child was sick and her grandmother couldn't take care of the little boy. He certainly didn't notice the Indian gentleman sitting at a table in the dining area, newspaper partially masking his face as he watched, waiting for Harry to leave.

As Harry exited the hotel, Mani put down the newspaper with a smile and headed towards their room. He wanted a quick chat with Ruth Evershed.

**A/N**

**Hope you have enjoyed. Next chapter hopefully up tomorrow. If you have a moment, a review would be very much appreciated!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**

**Positive response for the last chapter, thanks for the reviews! As promised, here is the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy! You'll all start getting bored of this story soon, I'm sure!**

**Disclaimer: All characters etc. belong to Kudos, no copyright infringement intended.**

"_Ninawa_," Ruth murmured to herself, circling a small area on the map in front of her. As soon as Harry had left, she had pulled open her luggage and searched for her map of Iraq. The uranium had to be coming through one of the border controls, but which one?

"_An Najaf_," she chewed on the end of her pen. _So many possibilities._

"_Mavsan_," another cross littered the already messy map, "_As Sulaymaniyah_."

A knock at the door startled her. Ruth hurriedly pushed the map into one of the desk drawers and stood up. Harry had left, hadn't he? Who else would be calling. She had little time to wonder as a second sharp knock followed, this time signalling impatience. She walked to the door and slowly opened it.

She wished she hadn't.

On the other side, with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, stood Amish Mani.

"Ruth," he intoned with a short bob of his head, "have I caught you at a bad time?"

Ruth remained silent, unable to comprehend what he was doing at her door. Did he know that Harry wasn't here? An alarm in her head was screaming at her to shut the door. _Shut it now and lock it! Walk away! _If she did that, however, she would risk her and Harry's entire position within this operation. Paying no heed to the shrill voice, she shook her head with a confidence she did not feel.

"Not at all, but I must tell you that Harry isn't here in case that was why you've come."

"No," his voice was soft, laced with poison she was sure, "actually I came to see you. May I come in?"

Ruth reluctantly pulled open the door, glad she had stashed the map away quickly. Mani walked in, his pace slow but his eyes moving restlessly about. His gaze landed on the one double bed and Ruth watched as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Quaint," was all he said.

"What can I do for you?" She stood near the door, wary.

"Don't worry, there will be no need to run from me, Ruth," Mani assured her, taking a seat in the chair at the desk, "I just want to talk about the operation, nothing else."

Ruth remained by the door. Mani realised she wasn't going to move anytime soon, so took it as his cue to speak.

"Libby and Ronnie are in agreement that you and Harry are both to be let in on this operation."

Ruth let out a shaky breath and smiled, though she remained studiously on guard.

"That's good to know. I should hate to think that we got off on the wrong foot, especially as we all want the same thing here."

"Yes," Mani replied, his cool gaze never leaving her. Ruth felt like she was being searched, inside and out, for any sense of a lie.

"You see, Ruth," he sighed and relaxed in the chair, "while my comrades are willing to accept you both into the fold, I'm having a little bit of trouble believing _you._"

"I-I'm sorry to hear that," Ruth replied, "is there anything in particular that has made you think this way?"

"Nothing substantial, _yet,_" Mani said dismissively, "but I should like this to be more of a pre-emptive visit."

Ruth raised her eyebrows, but didn't comment. She was frankly confused by what he was saying. He didn't trust her. There was no _reason_ behind his distrust, but he wanted her to know it.

"I'm not a violent man, Ruth, really," Mani started, his eyes belying the statement, "but self-preservation is something even you can understand, can't you?"

Ruth remained silent.

"You see, if this operation was to become public knowledge," he continued, "then all our necks would be on the line, none more so than mine. I really don't want that."

"I don't either," Ruth's statement was partly honest. Certainly she didn't want Harry's neck on the chopping block, or her own. They would put a stop to it quietly.

"I don't think you understand me," Mani said. He stood up and walked towards her slowly, keeping enough distance to be considered respectful but close enough to get his point keenly across, "I will do anything to make sure this goes ahead. _Anything._"

"I _do _understand," Ruth felt a horrible sensation, like a lead weight in her stomach. Was it dread? "we all want this to go ahead."

"Of course, if I was to find out that you somehow stopped this from going ahead… well, I don't like the sound of a woman screaming, Ruth… so perhaps Harry would have to pay the price."

Mani looked at her, his eyes piercing. She gave him _nothing. _If ever there was a time to have a stony expression, she hope she managed to pull it off now. Inside her heart was hammering: _He wouldn't hurt Harry, would he? He can't._ Mani looked as if he was going to say something else, divulge one of the many secrets Ruth was sure he was keeping from her and Harry. His mouth opened- then closed just as quickly.

"That will be all, thank you Ruth."

She let out a short breath and nodded, before showing him to the door. As he exited in to the hall, Mani turned back towards her.

"Remember what I said. I have more riding on this than Libby and Ronnie. They may be able to stick their heads in the sand, but _me? _ I won't forget that easily."

"I will remember that," Ruth replied, closing the door as she said it, "goodbye."

...

"How are you this afternoon Libby?" Harry asked, smiling as he sat down.

"You Brits are real comedians," Libby snapped in reply.

When Harry had arrived, only Libby and Ronnie were there to greet him. Ronnie looked better than Libby, despite them both having consumed the same vast amount of alcohol. Harry could only shake his head; some people never grew up.

"I won't keep you long," Harry leaned forward in his chair, "I just wanted to know more about this operation."

"… more?" Ronnie looked at him warily.

"Yes, _more. _I have come into this operation willingly. I think I have proved that you can trust me and that I am not a mole for Five or the higher echelons of government. Why am I still being kept in the dark here?" Harry looked between them, exasperated, "the uranium is being smuggled in in the next 24 hours and I'm not being told anything about it!"

"What more is there to know?" Libby asked. He was watching Harry with a piqued interest.

"Well, for a start whom do we have to thank for the uranium?"

"Actually the-" Ronnie's reply was cut off by the shrill ring of Harry's phone. Harry brought it out of his pocket and checked the caller ID, annoyed: _Ruth._

"If you'll excuse me gentlemen," he hit 'answer' and stood up, leaving the room for some privacy.

"Ruth, what is it?" he asked, feeling his heart speed up with concern. She knew he was here, she wouldn't be calling if it wasn't urgent.

"_Harry,_" Ruth's voice responded breathlessly, "_I__'__ve just had a visit.__"_

"From who?"

"_Mani.__"_

A panic set in as his thoughts sped to the worst scenario.

"Are you okay?"

"_I-I__'__m fine,__"_she replied and Harry let out a sigh of relief, "_just a bit shaken, that__'__s all.__"_

"What did he do? What's wrong?"

"_Have you found out who is behind the uranium deal yet?__"_

"I was just about to ask…" Harry said, walking up the hallway outside the dining area, "… but I fear I'm not going to be told. Why?"

"_I was, well it was- are you pacing?__"_

"Ruth."

"_Right, s-sorry, of course. So Mani was questioning me, talking about trust and how he was suspicious of me which is wrong because I haven__'__t given any impression of it and-__"_

"Ruth."

"_- sorry, so he was saying that all our necks are on the line and he wants more than anyone for this operation to go ahead and well he looked quite menacing actually and-__"_

"_Ruth,_" Harry stressed, his patience at an end, "please."

"_I think he__'__s the one bringing the uranium into the country, Harry._"

"Did he tell you as such?"

"_No, not exactly,__"_Ruth admitted and Harry smiled.

"Gut instinct again?"

"_You could say that.__"_

"So what should I do?"

Ruth went silent on the phone and Harry waited, wanting to know their next step. Eventually he heard her soft breathing, crackling down the line in his ear.

"_Find out for definite if you can.__"_

"Right," Harry replied, nodding, "I'll be back soon. Don't open the door for anyone."

"_See you soon._"

Harry ended the call and placed his phone back in his pocket. When he re-entered the room, there was a sudden silence and he was sure that they had been speaking about him just moments before.

"Not interrupting anything am I?" Harry asked, bemused as he took his seat again.

"Not at all," Ronnie replied. His smile told a different story, "was that anyone important?"

"Just Ruth," Harry said, "wanted to know if she should book an afternoon or evening flight home."

"Of course," Libby said, smiling, "now where were we?"

"Well if my memory serves me, I was demanding to know who was bringing the uranium into the country."

"I thought you would have liked the idea of plausible deniability, Harry."

"Oh I do," Harry remarked, "but I find there is a fine line between that and being kept in the dark."

"Look, a private contractor contacted us a week ago," Ronnie explained patiently, "we gave him a time and a day when it would be safest to get the uranium in. That's all we know."

"Okay," Harry leaned back in his chair, "and what about _where _the uranium is being delivered?"

"Where?" Libby asked, seemingly unimpressed by Harry's line of questioning.

"Yes, where. If I'm up to my neck in this then I at least want to be as up-to-date as both of you."

"Completely understandable," Ronnie cut in, smiling, "last I heard, the delivery was en route to _An Najaf_."

"Rather high profile," Harry noted, "_An Najaf _has had its share of trouble these past few months."

"Yes," Ronnie replied, "but sometimes the obvious is the last place people would look."

"Of course."

By the time Harry left the dining area, he had all the information he asked for and was more sure than ever that he was being lied to.

**A/N**

**Hope you have enjoyed this chapter, it's been quite a blast to write! Next chapter hopefully up tomorrow, maybe friday evening. If you have a moment, reviews do wonders for my motivation!**

**Many thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**

**Once again a big thanks for reviews, much appreciated! Here is the next chapter. The story should all come-a-tumbling down from here, not many chapters left to go... I'd say another 5?**

**A big big thank you to my wonderful Swedish stubborn old mule for editing, commenting and generally kicking me into action!**

**Disclaimer: all characters etc. belong to Kudos. No copyright infringement intended.**

"_Ashkuruka,__"_Ruth said warmly, phone jammed between her shoulder and ear as she scribbled more onto the map in front of her. After a few seconds of silence, she was sure they had ended the call and dropped the phone onto the desk in front of her with a sigh.

It was at that moment that the door opened. Ruth stiffened slightly, but then relaxed as Harry entered, carrying his folded suit jacket over his arm.

"How are you?" he asked, visibly concerned. He threw his jacket onto the bed and moved in closer.

"Harry, I'm f-" her sentence was cut short as she stood up to greet him and found herself mere inches from his chest. _Oh god, _her breath caught. He didn't move away, instead bringing his hands up to lightly grip her arms.

"Ruth, what happened?"

"H-he," _Damnit, construct a sentence, _her mind was shouting at her, but she was distracted by his proximity. If their moment in the corridor of the Grid was close, this was… something else, "err, that is to say, he just threatened. Nothing else."

"He threatened you?" Harry's eyes narrowed and Ruth could feel the anger build up within him, "what did he say?"

"That he had so much more to lose than everyone else," Ruth's voice came out so strangled, she cursed her feelings, "that he would do _anything _to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I'm sorry, Ruth" Harry sighed, his hands falling away from her arms. His shoulders slumped wearily, "I shouldn't have brought you in on this. These men are dangerous-"

"-No," Harry's startled eyes met hers, now fiery with determination, "don't you dare apologise. I knew what I was getting myself into… well, not _knew, _but I was aware it would be covert and dangerous. I chose to be here with you, don't play the tortured soul now. We will figure this out."

"A little dramatic," Ruth looked at him and saw the small smile, that sparkle in his eyes again. They were still so close…

"Sixth Form play," she returned the smile, her eyes flickering down his face, fixating on his lips. _So close._

"Standing ovation?" He asked, watching her carefully, never moving away.

"Just my mother," that drew a breathy chuckle for him and Ruth's eyes shot back up to his. He looked uncertain, gauging her reactions.

"Ruth…" her name slipped from his lips, laced with such tenderness that she feared her legs would collapse from underneath her.

This was it. This was the moment she had been waiting on for _so _long. Those covert glances from their desks, their small intimate chats late at night on the Grid, the accidental brushes of their hands when passing files, all of it culminating and charging them both, pushing them to this moment when he would lean in and crash his lips on hers-

A shrill ringing cut through the air like a knife, piercing them both through their hearts. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bury her face in Harry's neck and tell the world to get lost for just _one _second. Instead, she kept her head held high and, with a shaky breath, took a step back. It tore at her, having to back away, but in the split second she made the decision her mind cleared of some of the haze that had taken hold. They were in the middle of an operation, for Christ's sake! What was she thinking!?

"You better answer that," she whispered.

His eyes never looked away as he moved over to his suit jacket and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Yes?" He barked down it, clearly as frustrated as she was by their predicament. As Harry listened, Ruth turned away and started to pace near the door, her eyes glued to her feet as she did so.

Would it always be like this? She didn't think she could cope if it would be. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, constantly battling between her heart and her head. Who would make the first move? God knows she wanted something to happen but, while she grew more confident and more comfortable around Harry, she was reluctant to instigate it.

"Yes, fine," she heard Harry sigh. She turned back to him as he ended the call, dropping the phone onto the bed.

"What's going on?" She asked, hoping her voice sounded a lot calmer, more professional.

"They want us at the club again tonight."

"Then let's not disappoint them."

...

When they reached the club that evening, Harry and Ruth were directed straight down to the lower level. Apparently Libby, Ronnie and Mani were keen to skip dinner and go straight to the entertainment.

As they made their way down the stairs and towards the lull of the music, Harry once again placed his hand firmly on the small of Ruth's back.

"If you-"

"-Harry," Ruth interrupted, "I know what you're going to say and I'm fine being here. Really. I'm an MI5 analyst, not a little girl. It's why you asked me here."

"Actually I brought you here because, of all the team, you are the one who I trust will be able to figure out what is really going on."

Ruth smiled and looked away, feeling the warmth of his compliment washing over her. Hesitantly, they walked through the doors ahead of them.

Mani stood at the bar, drink in hand. Harry tensed at the sight of him, still furious that he would dare to threaten Ruth. He felt Ruth's eyes on him, however, and made a show of relaxing. He needed them on side, at least until tomorrow.

"Amish," Harry nodded in greeting before he ordered two white wine spritzers.

"Harry," Mani replied softly. He turned his gaze to Ruth, "good to see you."

Ruth forced a smile and said "hi", then picked up her drink and took a sip. All three remained silent as they glanced about the room. While Mani made a show of looking at the women dancing, Harry kept his eyes on the customers. No sign of the other two.

"Where's Libby and Ronnie?" Ruth piped up curiously.

"Where do you think?" Mani asked.

"Backrooms," Harry answered, looking over in that direction.

"It's like a holiday for them," Mani smiled as he took another sip of his own drink.

There was another brief lull as neither Harry or Ruth knew what to say. Ruth sighed inwardly; if this was how it was going to be all night, she'd be better off back at the hotel, finding out more about when the package was coming in. They'd only have one shot to pick it up cleanly without anyone knowing.

"Harry," Ruth handed him her drink, "I'm going to use the bathroom."

"Of course," Harry replied. He pointed towards the backrooms, "it's just past… there."

Ruth slowly made her way across the floor towards the very back of the club. She passed the two doors that she knew Libby and Ronnie were behind without incident, but was forced to a stop when she heard low voices coming from round a corner. The same corner that led to the bathrooms. Those voices seemed so familiar to her… the sentences were broken, muffled by their low tones and Ruth could only catch words;

"… private… Mani knows… India…" Ronnie's voice drifted past her.

"better… screw… up…" he was talking to Libby!

Ruth pressed herself against the wall, intent on listening further.

"Relax…" Ronnie replied, "… it's done…. Mani knows… chap… good."

The voices seemed to grow quiet after Ronnie finished and Ruth thought now was a good time to make herself known before she was caught. She pushed herself away from the wall and, with a deep breath, turned the corner. Both men looked over, startled to be caught there and not in their respective rooms.

"Sorry," Ruth said glibly, "needed the loo. Are they round here…?"

Libby opened his mouth and closed it, unsure, but luckily Ronnie jumped in smoothly.

"Of course, just down this corridor, on your right. We were just freshening up."

Ruth made a show of looking between them and the backrooms and, with a feigned look of realisation, stumbled over her sentences;

"Oh god- y-yes, of course, sorry! I'll let Harry know you won't be out. Sorry, excuse me."

She rushed past them, keeping her eyes on the ground in an attempt to look embarrassed at this encounter.

She didn't look back just in case they didn't believe her.

When she reached the bathroom, Ruth all but collapsed against the row of sinks. She took a steady breath and tried to recall what was being said.

They mentioned something about Mani knowing… something else about India. It seemed to confirm her suspicions, that the private contractor they pulled in was something to do with Mani. What about the way Ronnie was calming Libby down? He said it was done… that the contractor was good.

She closed her eyes. _Done. It was done. _What could he mean? Was it a cheap reassurance? Did Ronnie mean that he thought this operation in the bag, nothing could happen to stop the package tomorrow?

_One thing is certain, _Ruth thought as she opened her eyes and looked at her reflection, _I need to find out where the package will be delivered._

She needed to do it _now _as well. They needed to time to plan a covert pick-up.

"But how to get out?" She wondered aloud. She had only just got here, she couldn't just leave and say she had things to do. Ronnie, Libby and Mani would suspect her without a doubt.

Ruth looked in the mirror in front of her, thinking.

Then an idea hit her. She looked around, grabbing a handful of tissue and turning on the taps. It might just work.

...

Harry casually looked at his watch. He'd been standing at the bar with his and Ruth's drinks for about ten minutes, waiting for her. Surely she didn't take that long to use the bathroom?

Mani had remained silent the entire time, staring at the dancers. Harry could tell he was looking _past _them, thinking. He wondered what on earth had Mani's mind so occupied. He could only hazard a guess.

As Harry looked over at the corridor leading to the backrooms he saw a figure emerge. _Ruth, _he thought relieved. However, his relief vanished when he watched her stumble slightly.

"Ruth…?" He slowly walked towards her and, as the light hit her, he didn't like what he saw.

Her skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and she appeared shaky. It was as if she was struggling to see straight. Harry drew closer and gripped her arms, steadying her. He felt Mani appear at his shoulder, but didn't pay attention to him.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Harry asked, placing his hand on Ruth's forehead. God, she was clammy!

"M'fine," she mumbled, "I just… the smoke and the _heat. _I-I feel a bit weak."

"You can barely stand," Mani noted.

"When I had the drink, I-I felt a bit sick… needed to get to the bathroom."

"You need to go back to the hotel," Harry stated. As Ruth started to protest, he cut her off, "no 'buts' Ruth, this place will do you no good. You need fresh air and rest."

"I'll go find her a taxi," Mani offered, finishing his drink in one gulp and walking off out the room.

"Come on, let's get you outside," Harry placed his arm round her waist in an effort to steady and help carry her out of the room,

"I'll be fine," Ruth whispered and Harry snorted in disbelief.

"You don't _look _fine," he commented, "now come on, we'll both go back."

"No," Ruth suddenly stopped and Harry looked around, confused, "you stay here, I'll be fine."

"Ruth-"

"-Harry," Ruth gave him a small smile and Harry noticed that her eyes were glittering like they hadn't back in the room. Surely she couldn't be getting better already! That would be impossible, "I need you to trust me."

He watched as the sparkle in her eyes left and she once again leaned heavily against him.

"I'll be fine," she whispered, "just stay here… and trust me."

"But…" he looked at her closely and something slowly dawned on him, "… wait a minute…"

Ruth looked up at him and quickly looked away, gripping his arm gently as if in answer to his silent questioning.

"Does your brilliance know no bounds, Ruth?" He whispered in wonderment. At her smile, he leaned down and breathed in her ear, "I told you… you're a born spook."

Her answer was interrupted as Mani appeared before them once more.

"There is a taxi waiting," he said, then looked over at Harry, "Will you be…?"

"No," Harry replied, looking with concern at Ruth, "she just needs fresh air, rest and plenty of water I think. I'd be of no use to her at the hotel."

**A/N**

**Sherlock Holmes has got nothin' on Ruth. Just sayin'. **

**Reviews are, as always, much appreciated. Thanks for reading, next chapter hopefully up tomorrow but if not, then sometime on the weekend!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N**

**I admit I'm personally not too happy with how this chapter turned out, but thanks to some encouragement from my Swede on a stick and my own eagerness to post chapter 12 which I AM happy with, this chapter has been posted. Thank you for all the reviews so far, very much appreciated!**

**Hope you enjoy this installment.**

**Disclaimer: All characters etc. belong to Kudos. No copyright infringement intended.**

When Harry got back to the hotel at two in the morning, he found Ruth very much awake and not at all ill. She was walking around the room, phone to her ear and looking exhausted. Harry dropped his jacket on one of the chairs and started to remove his tie, patiently waiting for Ruth to come off the phone.

"Yes, yes I know that, I-" Ruth said quickly, but was interrupted by the other person on the end of the line.

She ran her other hand through her hair and sighed.

"Well, can you just _look _please? Y-yes, okay… as soon as humanly possible. Yes you could say that… okay thanks."

She ended the call, dropped the phone from her ear and turned to Harry.

"I take it you weren't talking to your mother?" Harry asked dryly. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"_Ninawa, An Najaf, Mavsan, As Sulaymaniyah_," Ruth listed off, shaking her phone as if to illustrate her great revelation.

"Some of the border areas of Iraq?" Harry replied, still as confused.

"The borders most commonly used to sneak… questionable packages in. Officials are easy to bribe, most are corrupt and some just _don't _care."

"Ronnie said _An Najaf_."

"Yes, well that may be, but I think it's best to play it safe, don't you?" Ruth said. She walked over in front of Harry, still gripping the phone.

"A good plan, but are you going to start explaining or should we start a game of charades?"

"I overheard Ronnie and Libby at the club," Ruth replied shortly.

"Ah," Harry leaned back on the bed. Finally everything was falling into place, "and I can only assume what they said led you to a sudden bout of sickness?"

"Yes," Ruth nodded, twisting the phone in her hands nervously, "they said that it was… 'done' and pretty much confirmed that Mani is behind the uranium."

"A private contractor?" Harry asked, trying to keep up with her. It was a struggle sometimes.

"I think so," Ruth held up the phone, "I've called all the most likely border control points in the areas. They've all agreed to go over records and see if they're expecting any Indian couriers in the next 24 hours."

"Mani would have bribed his way in advance," Harry agreed, rubbing his forehead wearily.

"Hopefully we'll hear back before it comes in."

Good work Ruth," Harry smiled at her, which she returned, "but if the officials at these points _are _bribed or corrupt, how did you manage to get them to look through records for you?"

This time Ruth's smile was almost… _mischievous._

"Ask me no questions," she said, "and I'll tell you no lies."

Harry chuckled softly.

"Well I don't know about you," he stood up slowly and stretched, "but I think a couple of hours sleep might do us some good."

...

Early the next morning, Harry decided that a trip to _An Najaf_ couldn't hurt. It was always good to be ahead of the game. As he waited patiently in their room for the taxi to arrive outside, he looked over at the bed. Usually Ruth was up by now, jotting down notes while humming to herself. Did she know she hummed to herself? Some nameless tune, Harry couldn't possibly guess it, but it still brought a smile to his face when he watched her. As it was, today Ruth hadn't woke before the crack of dawn as usual. This gave Harry a chance to study her (inconspicuously of course, he maintained).

What he saw from his viewpoint was duvet, duvet and more duvet, scrunched up and ending in some loose dark brown curls. He could just make out a pale face, half pressed into the pillow. Harry was glad to see her sleeping, having listened to her tossing and turning until the early hours of the morning. Several times he wanted to speak out, ask her what was on her mind. He could sense her distress at the situation, she wasn't able to maintain the cold marble façade like he could.

A car horn blared outside and Harry grimaced. That was probably his taxi. Ruth stirred, her hand coming up to brush the hair out of her face. Her eyes slowly opened and she gazed sleepily at the clock beside her.

"Six?" She yawned, "I've overslept…"

She looked blearily at Harry, who had quickly moved away from the bed so she didn't catch him staring.

"Off out?" Ruth asked, suppressing another yawn as she sat up, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You could use the sleep," Harry replied, picking up his mobile phone, "I'm going to visit _An Najaf_-"

"-That's a bit of a trek."

"If I'm there when the Indian courier gets there, it'll be worth it. While I'm gone, I need you to chase up on your contacts. We need to be sure we're in the right place when the package comes in as God knows what could happen if it fell into the wrong hands."

"You can count on me Harry."

Harry looked at her, his eyes travelling over her mussed up hair and heavy lidded eyes. He smiled and his words were simple:

"I know I can."

….

Within half hour, Ruth was washed, dressed and sat on the bed, her phone firmly attached to her ear.

"_l__ā__ afham_… _min fadlik_."" she said, her brow furrowed in confusion. She had spent the last 10 minutes being transferred from person to person and had finally reached who she wanted to.

The man on the other end repeated what he had said and Ruth's hand gripped the phone tightly.

"_l__ā__ afham_…" she muttered once more. He couldn't possibly mean-? There was really only one thing he could mean. Realisation hit her like a tidal wave, encompassing, drowning.

She didn't hear the voice on the other end anymore, her grip had loosened. Shaking, her arm dropped to her side and Ruth heard the dull 'thud' as the phone hit the floor.

"No…" she said, her eyes darting to the mirror on the wall in front of her. Her face had lost all colour, she felt sick.

"No…" she looked down at the phone on the floor and slowly picked it up. It sat in her hand, waiting, and Ruth felt her fingers move on their own accord, typing in that all too familiar number.

It rang. Once. Twice. Three times. A voice echoed on the other end.

"_Ruth?"_

"Harry," she breathed, stricken.

….

Barely six in the morning and the heat was unbearable. Harry sat in the back of the taxi, his face turned towards the wound down window in the hope of catching a breeze. A futile hope, he had soon found out.

He wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was doing out here, in the middle of war-torn Iraq, searching for uranium. The three men, those three _despicable _men, would get what? A slapped wrist? A dressing down? They wanted a public massacre, innocent people slaughtered and all they would get is a revoked membership from the conservative club.

_Since when did you care so much about innocent lives and moral high road? _A voice questioned from the depths of his mind. He snorted, shaking his head. He already knew the answer to that one: Ruth.

That was why he was here, sweating profusely in the back of a taxi on the way to intercept material for dirty bombs. Somehow this analyst, this _angel _in disguise, had embedded herself under his skin. She became his moral compass when he thought he didn't have one. He soon found himself asking her opinions, matching them even, and understanding her reasoning. She believed in black and white, right and wrong, there was no grey. If Ruth hadn't bustled through that briefing room door those few years ago, would he be here trying to stop this operation? Or would he be Ronnie, firm in the belief that the country _needed _this war to protect the integrity of the West?

His pocket vibrated, breaking him from his rather melancholy reverie. Harry pulled his mobile from his pocket and caught sight of the caller ID. He hit 'answer' as quick as he could, concern and apprehension immediately written on his face, in his voice:

"Ruth?"

"_Harry._"

Her voice was carefully controlled panic. He felt his body tense at the sound.

"What is it?" He tried to keep calm. Ruth sounded scared, he didn't like this one bit.

"…" He heard her shallow breathing on the other end and his heart leapt in his throat. What was going on? Was she hurt?

"Ruth, talk to me," He ordered gently.

"_The package._"

He didn't have time to be relieved, the package taking full priority.

"Where is it coming in?"

"_Mavsen._"

"Shit!" Harry swore, moving the phone away from his ear. He signalled the driver's attention with a wave of his hand.

"_Mavsen_!" He barked. The driver started shouting back, his words sounding angry and crude, but he swung the car around sharply.

"_Harry!_" he heard Ruth call, refocusing his attention back to her.

"What is it? I'm on my way there now."

"_Mavsen have a private Indian contractor in their books, but he__'__s not coming in the next 24 hours.__"_

"What are you saying?" Harry asked abruptly, hearing the panic once more seep through her every word.

"_What I'm saying, Harry, is that __he__'__s not coming in the next 24 hours because he__'__s already been and gone.__"_

**A/N**

**So, there you go. Another chapter down, fun times! **

**Next chapter up tomorrow evening, please leave a review if you have a moment! **

**Thanks for reading and keeping with it so far.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N**

**I made a mistake in my last A/N, I meant this chapter is the one I've been looking forward to posting. I just absolutely LOVED writing this one, it's great to be able to try and write a different character and fit them into the story! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.**

**Disclaimer: Spooks, the characters, everything related belongs to Kudos. No copyright infringement intended.**

Ruth sat on the edge of the bed, phone cradled between her hands, and looked at the clock on the side table. It had just gone 7. Most people in the UK would still be sleeping, lying in the comfort of their beds in the embrace of a loved one perhaps, dreaming about better things. Ruth sighed, wishing more than anything she could be one of those people. Instead, she was sitting in a hotel in Baghdad with her boss who she was, admittedly, head over heels in love with and the weight of thousands of lives resting on her shoulders.

"Not your finest moment, Ruth," she muttered to herself, "you stupid, stupid woman."

She heard footsteps outside in the corridor, heavy and fast. She knew it was Harry, his gait was as familiar to her as her own. Within a minute, the door to their room flew open and he stormed in, his eyes afire. His jacket was flung over his arm, his shirt was dishevelled and he looked suitably harassed. Despite the unbelievably grave situation they found themselves in, Ruth liked what she saw.

"Those bastards," Harry breathed, slamming the door behind him.

"Harry, people are still asleep…" Ruth chastised him gently. She didn't want to provoke his temper. Harry stared at her for a moment and she wondered if he was going to shout at her like had done on previous occasions, but within a minute his demeanour seemed to soften slightly and he exhaled.

"No wonder they have been suitably vague about this deal," he continued, quieter this time, as he threw his jacket over a chair, "they've been sitting on the uranium all this time!"

Ruth nodded in agreement, still clutching her phone, and watched as he started to pace.

"They bring us here," Ruth questioned slowly, "and they let us in only to keep us in the dark. They trusted us enough to let us know of their plan and who they are but not enough to actually bring us in on it. Why?"

Harry continued to walk up and down the room, slow and silent. She wondered if he'd even heard her questions. His hands rested on his hips as he turned around once more and walked back.

"I don't know," he admitted finally, looking at her, "I just don't know. Perhaps it was a fail-safe. They wanted to believe us but if we had tried to intervene, we would have alerted them to our real intentions and still wouldn't be able to have stopped it."

"They've been playing us all along," Ruth summarised, frowning, "leading us around by our noses. It's like you said, Harry, we've been dancing to their tune all this time."

"I fear you may be right," Harry sighed. He rubbed his face wearily and Ruth questioned, not for the first time, how he even managed to get out of bed every morning knowing what he would have to face.

"So the uranium is in the wrong hands and we can't put a stop to it without big risk or being implicated ourselves. We've failed."

"No," Harry replied fiercely, making Ruth jump slightly, "I'm sick of dancing with the Devil."

"What are you going to do?"

Harry walked over to his jacket and pulled out his mobile phone in his right hand. Ruth watched him, waiting for an answer. He was just as bad as Mani sometimes when it came to giving an answer.

"I'm putting a stop to this right now." His fingers moved dexterously over the numbers as he typed them in.

"How?"

Harry's arm crossed his body as he put the phone to his left ear. Ruth could hear a faint dialling tone.

"They may have uranium," Harry said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "but we have a weapon much more powerful. We have Juliet."

….

Juliet groaned as she heard the tell-tale ringing of her mobile phone.

"8 hours," she growled, struggling to open her eyes, "that's all I sodding well ask for."

She blindly reached out with her hand, fumbling for the bedside table until her fingers grazed the side of her phone. With a heavy sigh she stretched and grabbed it before rolling back onto her back. She got comfortable once more before she hit 'answer' and put the phone to her ear.

"_Juliet."_

The sharp tone of Harry Pearce swept all thought of sleep away and her eyes snapped open immediately.

"H-Harry?" she asked, confused as she peered to her left and saw the time; _4:09am_, "What is going on? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"_I need your help," _his voice crackled as the signal weakened,_ "We're in Baghdad."_

"Baghdad?" Juliet pushed herself up in the bed, resting her weight on one arm, "slow down. What do you mean 'we'?"

"_I brought Ruth with me," _Harry replied casually, as if this revelation of being in Baghdad with his analyst was an everyday occurrence, _"I needed someone I can trust_."

"What-?" Juliet was still trying to wrap her head around the situation, but Harry sounded like he meant business.

"_I need you to go as high up as you can in government, beg and plead if you have to."_

"Will you please tell me what the bloody hell is going on, Harry!?" She snapped in reply. This was just like him, to have her calling around at this time. She knew he hated politics, but even he must know the kind of reaction she'd get from the cabinet if she was to call their family homes at 4 in the morning. She heard Harry sigh and pressed the phone harder against her ear.

"Don't make me come over there and torture you for the information," Juliet pulled her duvet off of her and sat up in the bed fully.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, Harry spoke again:

"… _There is joint intelligence operation to uncover uranium in Iraq. They want to vindicate the war, Juliet."_

Juliet snorted derisively. She had just been woken up at 4am for this? This was a joke.

"There isn't any uranium in Iraq, Harry," she said levelly, wanting nothing more than to just lie down again, "The whole world knows it, why do you think the Prime Minister is so unpopular at the moment?"

"…_there is uranium in the country," _Harry replied, _"It arrived yesterday."_

"What-?"

"_They've planted it and are going to 'discover' it unless we get to them first."_

"Why haven't you stopped them already?" Juliet asked as she searched the room for her clothes. _Ah, hanging over the chair._

"_This goes higher than me. The Whitehouse has green lit it, not to mention our sisters over at Six."_

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, feeling that once again she was sticking her neck on the line for Harry Pearce.

"_Go as high as you can, Juliet, and fast. I'm counting on you."_

**A/N**

**Hope you enjoyed this brief interlude! Reviews are very much appreciated, many thanks! I hope I've written Juliet somewhat realistically!**

**Next chapter hopefully up tomorrow!**


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